


I could light the night up with my soul on fire

by scepticallyopenminded



Series: Alpha Stiles [9]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Stiles Stilinski, Control Issues, Feelings, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Love Confessions, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, POV Alternating, Spells & Enchantments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-07
Updated: 2016-01-07
Packaged: 2018-05-12 08:11:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5659006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scepticallyopenminded/pseuds/scepticallyopenminded
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I mean – you just killed something – someone. There are consequences to doing something like that.”</p>
<p>Stiles sighs, rolling his eyes just a little bit.</p>
<p>“I’ve killed things before, Derek. People too. Part of our god damn life, isn’t it?”</p>
<p>Derek is quiet for another minute.</p>
<p>“Yeah. And I’ve learned from many past mistakes that leaving any of you to deal with the aftermath of killing isn’t okay. Killing anything or anyone is traumatic, regardless of how much they may have deserved it or if it was in self-defence or the only option.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	I could light the night up with my soul on fire

**Author's Note:**

> this took me stupid long to get out. like legit I've been writing it since the day after I posted part 8. I don't know why but every time I tried to write this I would get a few sentences out and then not be able to look at it for days. I apologize for that and am incredibly ashamed for how long it took. but here it is!
> 
> title from "Higher Love" by James Vincent McMorrow

So Stiles had lied, a little bit.

Or more, it was a lie of _omission_. He hadn’t told the whole truth.

He’d absorbed a hell of a lot more power than he’d suggested to the pack, is the thing. Enough power, Stiles thinks as he sits down on his own bed in his own house some many hours later, that he’s physically shaking from it, even still. He can _feel_ the power, thrumming through his veins, _scarily_ intoxicating.

Between that power than he’d absorbed, and the power he’d recently grown into thanks to Orion, and the Alpha power on top of it all, he’s feeling pretty fucked up. It’s too much, at once, too much for him to handle and too much for his body to handle and too much for his mind to handle and he tries to dispel more of it into the territory and the pack but there’s only so much he can do.

The other thing is, it’s certainly, to a point, _beneficial_. The power he’s gotten from Cassius has made him so much _stronger_. He can hear things – can see things – can _feel_ the territory, so much better. He was able to heal Derek and Kira without so much as a problem and that was _useful_.

That doesn’t stop it from hurting, doesn’t stop him from shaking with the effort to keep it locked in, locked up, from bursting from his body in an explosion of power that would certainly wipe at least a part of Beacon Hills off the map. He has enough power to keep the power _in check_ , but that doesn’t make it comfortable, that doesn’t make it hurt any less.

He flops back onto his bed, sighing deeply and staring at the ceiling, feeling the harsh thrum of power rushing through his body.

****

Derek slips through his window with practiced ease, leather jacket tucked tightly around him and hands stuffed in the pockets, and when Stiles looks up from where he’s been splayed out on his bed, staring at his ceiling for the past two hours, he has the strangest flashback to high school. He shakes his head roughly, looking at Derek who stares back with carefully neutral eyes.

“How’re you doing?”

Stiles huffs, letting his eyes trail back to the ceiling.

“We survived another traumatic incident, what can I say. I’m glad we’re all still alive?”

Derek doesn’t say anything for a moment, instead going over and sitting down in Stiles’ desk chair. Stiles looks at him again, because this is obviously not going to be a short visit, then.

“I mean – you just killed something – some _one_. There are consequences to doing something like that.”

Stiles sighs, rolling his eyes just a little bit.

“I’ve killed things before, Derek. People too. Part of our god damn life, isn’t it?”

Derek is quiet for another minute.

“Yeah. And I’ve learned from many past mistakes that leaving any of you to deal with the aftermath of killing isn’t okay. Killing anything or anyone is traumatic, regardless of how much they may have deserved it or if it was in self-defence or the only option.”

Stiles stares at Derek for a moment, squinting as if it’ll help him see what Derek’s thinking any better. It doesn’t, because he’s not a mind reader, regardless of the power he’s absorbed, and between Derek nearly dying and the shock the power when Stiles and the territory and packed had taken in, it’d broken their connection.

“So you want to talk about what I’m feeling instead?”

Derek cocks his head with frustration written all over his face.

“Don’t be a dick – we can talk about whatever you want. But leaving you alone to stew in your thoughts isn’t good.”

Stiles sighs, flipping over to his side and leaning his head on an open palm, elbow resting on his pillow.

“It’s not like I’m the only one. You all killed some people too.”

Derek nods, the pained expression that he always has when he’s reminded that he’s killed people on his face, and Stiles feels suddenly overwhelmingly bad about mentioning it, about the entire day and even, slightly, the tiniest bit, about killing Cassius, though he knows he shouldn’t because Cassius was going to kill them all if he hadn’t.

“I’m here with you. Cora is with Lydia and Erica, Isaac and Boyd and Scott and Malia are out sniffing around the territory to make sure everything’s okay again and letting off some steam, and Allison and Kira are doing something.”

Stiles sort of sighs again, but it’s different, and he looks at Derek, who stares right back at him.

“Fine,” he says after a long moment of silence, “We can talk then.” He pauses, squints, and Derek just looks back, expression of someone who’s waiting for someone else to speak up because they’re unsure what to say next.

“Yeah, let’s talk,” he continues, “We could talk about, oh, I don’t know, that little bit of info you let slip when our minds were connected – or this stupid Alpha power shit and how neither you nor Scott let any of us know exactly how deep it runs, which means that you knew – ”

Stiles stops, huffs, and lets himself fall back onto his bed so he’s staring at the ceiling again, embarrassed but nonetheless glad at the outburst. He hears Derek take a deep breath, then it’s another long moment before the werewolf speaks up.

“Stiles,” he says softly, tentatively, “You want me to talk about how I’m…attracted to and interested in you? I’m not sure how…”

“You’re not sure how that changes anything?” Stiles asks, quickly and angrily, sitting up fully and swinging his legs over the side of his bed, “Dude, I’ve been in love with you for a year and a half at least! It’s _not_ my best kept secret!”

Derek is staring back at him, shock written all of his face, and he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he takes this in.

“Oh,” he says simply after a long moment, “You weren’t very obvious about it.”

Stiles hitches one eyebrow, incredulous, “The entire pack knows. I’m pretty sure _Cora_ knows. I think _my dad_ knows.”

“Well I didn’t,” Derek retorts, voice somewhat irritated, but looks at Stiles a moment later, face apologetic, “Sorry. I just…”

He sighs, running a hand through his hair, and Stiles doesn’t even think about it, mirrors the action.

“Where does this leave us, then?” he asks, and Derek stares back at him for a long moment before he looks out the window at the rapidly setting sun, shrugging.

“Well, you know I’m in love with you, and you’re…” Stiles makes a vague hand gesture at Derek, and this time when Derek looks back his face is full of amusement. He snorts lightly.

“In love with you.” And Stiles starts at that, can’t help the small smile that graces his face.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Derek confirms, smiling back and running another hand through his hair, sitting back in the chair, “Probably have been for a while. I didn’t really realize it until…until you came to me about the whole Alpha thing.”

“I thought that should’ve been a pretty obvious giveaway to how I feel about you,” Stiles admits after another moment of silence in which they just look at each other, “That I went to you for that.”

“You always come to me for things like that.”

Stiles smiles, raising an eyebrow at Derek.

“I do.”

Derek stares at him for another long moment, realization dawning on him.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” Stiles replies.

“I’m kind of oblivious,” Derek says then, and Stiles nods in agreement.

“What I’m most curious about is how you never managed to figure it out when you had this whole – Alpha connection thing,” Stiles says, “Like I can feel you right now. Your – confusion, and relief, and curiosity, and lust – though I think that last one might be – ”

“Don’t,” Derek interrupts him, wincing, “I don’t wanna know who. _That’s_ why.”

Stiles just raises his eyebrows at Derek, waiting for him to continue.

“I learned to tune people’s feelings out rather quickly,” he explains, “Like scents or noises, the feelings can be overwhelming, often. I learned to tune them out unless they were really strong or I needed to understand how someone was feeling. So – so when you – I knew you were _into_ me when you were younger, I could smell it and then, _after_ , feel it, but you were sixteen, and the entire pack was teenagers, you _all_ smelled like lust and sex _all_ the time.”

“We’re not teenagers anymore,” Stiles points out, and Derek smiles wryly at him.

“You’re twenty.”

“Almost twenty-one,” Stiles feels the need to say, and Derek rolls his eyes but allows it, nodding.

“Even then, I learned to tune out your scent and your feelings unless it was necessary for me to feel them or smell you. I know your scent inside and out, but I don’t go around just _smelling_ you guys all the time – ”

“Thank you, because that would be weird.”

“Do you ever stop interrupting?” The question itself sounds angry, but the tone of Derek’s voice and his expression were just _fond_. Stiles gives him a look like, “of course I don’t” but nonetheless mimes zipping his mouth shut before gesturing for Derek to continue. Derek rolls his eyes again but the amusement on his face is given away by his smile.

“I – I ignored your scent, unless it was absolutely vital for me to use it to track you or make sure you weren’t injured, and the same thing with the connection, because I didn’t want to overstep my boundaries. I’m the Alpha, but I’m also a person, and you’re all also _humans_ who need privacy sometimes. Especially those of you,” he nods at Stiles, “Who are actually _human_.”

“I don’t know that I actually fully qualify as _human_ anymore, though – ” Stiles starts, cutting himself off when Derek lets out a small, rumbling growl, “Right. Sorry.”

“That’s – why. I don’t think I ever felt anything because I was careful to tune out your emotions unless they were too strong to do so. I thought I had these one-sided just-sort-of-into-you feelings and I wasn’t – ” Derek pauses, letting out a breath and glancing toward the ceiling in thought, “I wasn’t going to do anything about them. You’re – young, and still in college, and there isn’t even a surety that you’ll come back here after graduation and I didn’t – don’t – think that I could ever leave here again.” He stops, shrugging and looking back over at Stiles, who’s watching him with a mixture of emotions across his face.

“You’re an idiot,” Stiles says after a short silence, “If you think for even a moment that I’d be leaving. Beacon Hills is _home_ , and the pack is _home_. I could’ve stayed in LA for breaks, but I didn’t because _you all_ are here. _You’re_ here.”

Derek shrugs again, but his smile is bright and gorgeous.

“I didn’t know if Beacon Hills was big enough for you and your dreams.”

Stiles hums, slowly getting up from his bed and walking toward Derek, who stays sitting and just watches him. Stiles stops just in front of Derek, their knees almost touching.

“Now that we know,” Stiles says lowly, “Can I…?” He leaves the question unsaid, but Derek nonetheless understand, and his smile grows a bit brighter as he nods, a little too quickly. Stiles huffs a half a laugh before he’s climbing into Derek’s lap – well, trying to. The chair isn’t quite big enough and Stiles’ knees are half off it, on either side of Derek’s. His right knee slips off a little as he settles in Derek’s lap, and his head nearly hits Derek’s shoulder before Derek catches him, hands tight around his thighs.

“Fuck,” Stiles whispers, then starts laughing, pressing his forehead against Derek’s shoulder, and Derek chuckles beside him. He pulls back after a moment, looking down at Derek with a soft smile. They stare at each other for a long second, before Stiles is leaning down and Derek is pushing his own face up and it’s –

It’s not perfect. It’s definitely not the best executed kiss Stiles has ever had, but it’s _good_. It’s good because _fuck_ its _Derek_ , he’s actually kissing Derek and that’s something he’s kinda wanted to do since he was sixteen and definitely wanted to do even more so since he was nineteen.

After a moment Derek’s hands shift from his thighs closer to his ass and he’s moving _upward_ very gracefully, carrying Stiles easily up with him, and Stiles breaks their kiss long enough to say “Um,” before he’s landing with an “Umph” on his bed, Derek shrugging off his jacket and shoes before he’s climbing over Stiles.

“Okay,” Stiles says with a nod and Derek raises an eyebrow at him, smirk on his face, and Stiles reaches up to pull Derek down so he can kiss him some more, and its better, this time. Derek’s lips are soft and their kisses are gentle, slow at first. Stiles keeps one hand on Derek’s face, the scratch of his beard rough, his other hand wandering its way down to his arm as the kiss deepens, getting more insistent, biting. Derek ruts his hips down as he breaks the kiss, nosing along Stiles’ jaw as Stiles lets out a strangled noise.

“Okay?” Derek asks, nipping at Stiles’ chin as Stiles moves his hand from his arm down his back. Stiles huffs a laugh.

“More than,” he replies. Derek shifts, sliding one of his thighs between Stiles’ legs. Stiles arches up at that, moaning.

“Um, Stiles?” Derek suddenly stops, sounding somewhat concerned, and Stiles looks up at him. His vision, he realizes, is flittering between crimson and dark purple, and he’s shaking much worse than before. The energy in him is absolutely _thrumming_ , bright and shocking.

“Yeah,” Stiles breathes out, “’M having some trouble containing all the power.”

“Stiles…” Derek starts, pushing himself off Stiles, and the hand that’s on his face slides to his arm.

“Please,” Stiles says, pleads, because Derek Hale had been grinding his hella hard dick into his hip and Stiles did _not_ want to give that up, “I think it’ll help if I…find some release.”

Stiles winces at his choice of words, but Derek seems more than okay with them, eyes flashing blue before he’s dragging his thigh across Stiles’ clothed cock, harshly trapped in his pants. He nips behind his ear as Stiles sucks in a breath.

“Yeah?” he asks, pressing a hot kiss to Stiles’ mouth, “You want me to make you come?”

“Oh my god,” Stiles breaths against Derek’s lips, “Fuck, ‘m not gonna last long, been a while.”

“Mmm,” Derek hums, sliding his hands up Stiles’ shirt, brushing across his stomach as he started to kiss down Stiles’ neck, “College students not doing it for you anymore?”

“Holy hell,” Stiles gasps as one of Derek’s fingers brushes across his nipple, “N-no, hard to get it going with someone when you’re head over heels for someone else.”

 Derek gave a small, rumbling growl at that, biting down hard at the juncture between Stiles’ neck and shoulder at the same moment that his hips jerked down, and Stiles grips at the back of Derek’s head, pushing his own hips up as he comes with a sharp cry. He shudders as he settles back into his bed – or, maybe, not just him, he realizes when he opens his eyes again to see Derek staring down at him, a few books from his bookshelf fallen to the floor and the old house creaking as it settles.

“I think your orgasm just caused an earthquake,” Derek tells him matter-of-factly, and Stiles gives a hum at the realization, sliding the hand that’s grasping at the back of Derek’s shirt around to slide against the outline of his still-hard dick in his jeans. His eyes flash blue, a low groan in his throat, and Stiles smirks, feeling pleasantly relaxed.

“Least I didn’t blow up the town. We can talk about it more after I take care of this.”

His movements are quick, a push to Derek’s shoulder and they’re suddenly flipped over, Stiles climbing on top of Derek and immediately letting his hand wander down to Derek’s zipper. He pulls Derek’s dick out, hard and slick, as he leans down to kiss him again, a kiss that’s a lot of harsh breathing and Stiles slides his free hand under Derek’s shirt, skimming along his stomach.

“You want me to make you come?” Stiles whispers against Derek’s mouth, sliding his thumb over his slit as his stomach clenches, “Bet you want to mark me up with your scent, let everyone know I’m yours.”

Derek gives a groan as Stiles quickens his movements, and it’s _weird_ , Stiles thinks, because he can feel the underlying pleasure, not his own, subtle but present. It’s not bad, just different, something he’s going to have to get used to.

When Derek comes he’s near silent, a long breath out as he spills over Stiles’ hand and his own stomach and shirt. His o-face, though, is something to be marvelled at, and Stiles does just that, jerking him a couple more times before he falls on the bed next to him. Derek’s still breathing rather hard, and Stiles laughs at the picture he makes; eyes closed, cock hanging out, his shirt ridden halfway up his stomach and partially covered in cum.

They lay there in silence for a full few minutes, and Stiles stares at Derek’s face as he blinks, slowly levelling his breathing, and looks back, smile gracing his face as he leans over and down to brush another kiss along Stiles’ lips.

“We should probably get cleaned up,” he whispers, and Stiles has to agree because his jeans and boxers feel gross and his hand is covered, but he’s also feeling super pleasantly relaxed and the power within him seems to have settled, somewhat. Instead, he just gives Derek a sly smile and reaches over, wiping his hand off on his already-stained shirt. Derek growls at him when he sees what Stiles is doing, but he just laughs.

“Not what I meant,” Derek grumbles, but just pulls off his shirt, wiping at his stomach, as Stiles kicks off his jeans, pushing them off his bed and cuddling up to Derek.

“We can later. ‘M exhausted.”

Derek apparently agrees, because he sheds his own jeans before pulling Stiles a little closer, and drifting off not long later to the gentle beat of his heart.

*****

Derek wakes up slowly, feeling pleasant and settled, much more so than he has since coming back from the dead. He blinks awake, realizing that he’s not in his own bed – and oh, yeah. Stiles is sitting cross-legged next to him, biting at his nail and looking down at something on his bed. Derek smiles, remembering the night before, pressing his face into the pillow, deeply ingrained with Stiles’ scent.

The boy in question glances down at Derek, smiling softly as he sits up. Stiles closes the book he’d been looking at, Derek just catching sight of – Chinese, he thinks, before Stiles is throwing the book on his bedside table.

“Good morning,” he says, leaning over and dropping a quick kiss to Derek’s lips. He goes to pull away, but Derek catches the back of his neck, pulling him close and kissing him again, much deeper than the light peck before. Stiles moans, unfolding himself enough to lean further into Derek’s space, gripping at his shoulder and bicep. Derek pulls back after a moment, satisfied as his hand settles on Stiles’ side under his shirt.

“Good morning indeed,” Stiles breathes, leaning his forehead against Derek’s, who chuckles at the tone in Stiles’ voice, sliding his hand down from the back of his neck to his shoulder. Stiles winces in the slightest at that, leaning just a bit away from Derek’s touch, his scent changing. Derek moves his hand, seeing a bruise settled over the collar of Stiles’ shirt. He grins, sliding his fingers gently over the spot again, brushing Stiles’ shirt aside to get a better look. Stiles shivers just a bit even as he rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, be smug,” Stiles mutters, but he sounds fond and smells happy. Derek drops another small kiss on Stiles’ lips.

“Good morning,” he finally says, and Stiles huffs at his tone.

“I didn’t realize anyone could be so pleased with themselves at hitting this.” He jerkily gestures at himself. Derek laughs, pulling Stiles in for another slow kiss.

“No, I’m smug because you love me.”

Stiles’ expression softens at that.

“I do,” he agrees easily, and he kisses Derek softly, sweetly, and it starts to turn into something more when Stiles’ stomach grumbles. Derek pulls back, chuckling, and Stiles looks down at his stomach in betrayal before looking back up at Derek, expression changing to hope.

“You’ll stay for breakfast?”

Derek nods. “Of course.”

Stiles grins again, pulling away and jumping off his bed.

“Good. There’s a towel on the sink, if you wanna take a shower.” He goes over to his dresser, opening the fourth drawer and pulling out a pair of BHS sweatpants, throwing them at Derek. “Here, these should fit you. And…” he goes over to his closet, shuffling through some clothes before he picks something out, holding it out.

“This is yours, isn’t it?” He tosses the shirt at Derek, who catches it easily as he stands up.

“Yeah,” he replies, eyebrows furrowing down just a bit. It was something Stiles did, had backups for everyone that he stored in his bedroom and in his jeep, because the entire pack had a habit of ripping/staining/getting their clothes wet, and in Derek’s case (the fact that he could go full-wolf), losing them altogether. It hadn’t ever seemed weird until now, because this wasn’t…this wasn’t due to the supernatural or fighting or anything. This was completely and totally due to him and Stiles _having sex_.

“You okay?”

Derek startles, looking up from where he’d been staring at the shirt to see Stiles right in front of him, one hand on Derek’s arm and face scrunched in concern. He nods, offering a small smile.

“Yeah. Just – thinking.”

Stiles looks more worried, but he nods in return.

“We’re okay, aren’t we?”

Derek hadn’t really been thinking about that, just assuming that they _were_ on the same page, but his eyebrows go up at that, now unsure.

“I think?”

Stiles watches him for a moment.

“I think so,” he agrees, then smiles, “You go take a shower and I’ll make some breakfast and then we can talk. Omelettes okay?”

Derek nods, still feeling off-kilter and unsure but better. It gets a lot better when Stiles starts to step away before he changes his mind, instead leaning over and giving Derek another peck. He steps back after that, smile still well in place, and walks out his door with a small wink at Derek.

He watches Stiles go before taking a breath, feeling better, and heading toward the bathroom.

******

His life, since Scott had been bitten, had been a fucking never-ending roller coaster ride. From hell, most of the time. But, Stiles thought as he poured the egg mixture into the pan, the last week had been wilder than any of it before. Derek dying, him becoming Alpha, Derek coming back to life, his true power being brought forward, being _kidnapped_ (which, Stiles thought briefly, would’ve been a lot worse had it not happened to him at least three times previous – their enemies really liked to prey on the weakest links, the humans), and _defeating_ a very powerful, very old witch. And then gathering _that_ power, too.

He’d fallen asleep the previous night easily, calm and collected and feeling rather in control of himself, but he’d woken up jittery again, ready to burst out of his skin. He’d been able to calm down somewhat – repeating a spell he’d done at first, that had dispelled a tiny bit of the power into the territory again, and by taking a shower and anchoring himself, somewhat, onto Derek – but it still doesn’t feel good. And the spell that he’d found, been looking at when Derek’d woken up – it was hard and dangerous, if done incorrectly.

How the hell is he supposed to get not only Derek, but Scott (at least, if he couldn’t get the rest of the pack, too) on board with the plan?

He tosses some veggies and leftover bacon into the omelette and is about to flip it when he feels the soft press of lips to the back of his neck. He immediately feels better, and calmer.

“Good morning,” Derek rumbles against his neck, and Stiles lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, feeling more grounded. He flips the omelette before turning around, and there’s Derek, standing close enough that all Stiles has to do is lean over a millimetre to kiss him again. He pulls back after a moment, narrowing his eyes.

“Did you use my toothbrush?”

It’s obviously not what Derek’s expecting, and he leans back in surprise before snorting in laughter.

“Do you have something against that?”

He leans over Stiles’ side to grab the mug of coffee Stiles had poured for himself, taking a sip and raising his eyebrows at Stiles challengingly. Stiles narrows his eyes further, but just turns back around, pulling the omelette off the skillet and folding it onto a plate.

“Uh. Yeah, that’s gross,” he replies, handing the plate with the omelette and two sausage patties to Derek, who takes it brightly and sits down at the kitchen table as Stiles grabs another mug for himself, his breakfast already sitting on the counter.

“You’ll kiss me and you won’t share a toothbrush with me?” Derek questions as Stiles pours coffee for himself.

“I have to draw the line _somewhere_ ,” Stiles mumbles, realizing that _technically_ it doesn’t make a lot of sense, but still, it grosses him out to think about sharing a toothbrush with _anyone_. Derek snorts again as Stiles sits down next to him.

“Don’t worry. I just used your mouthwash.”

Stiles glares at Derek, all thoughts of having to buy a new toothbrush flying out of his head.

“You’re a dick,” he tells him, and Derek smiles, obviously not bothered.

They eat in silence for a moment before Derek sets his fork down, looking over to Stiles curiously.

“How are you today?” he asks, and Stiles half sighs, but it’s more a gesture of thinking than in the annoyance it had been the previous night. He shrugs, swallowing.

“I’m – better. You,” he gestures to Derek flailingly, “Helped a lot. It’s mostly just – ” He pauses, biting his lip again and thinking. Derek raises his eyebrows encouragingly.

“A lot more of Cassius’ powers were transferred to me than I led you all to believe. And I wasn’t able to dispel nearly enough of it _out_. If it was just that I might be able to control it but in accompaniment with the Alpha-ness…I feel like I’m going to burst, at any moment, just like spontaneously combust.”

Derek stares at him, fully concerned.

“Why didn’t you tell us yesterday?” he asks, and Stiles shrugs, taking a drink of his coffee.

“I thought it was just – new. That it would get better as my body got used to it all. But – it didn’t. It got worse.”

“Shit,” Derek says, and Stiles fully agrees, “We can – we can go to Deaton, whenever he gets back, maybe he’ll know something else we can do – but you’ve got to go back to school in three weeks – ”

Stiles shrugs again at that.

“I don’t know that I’ll be able to go back.”

Derek looks more than surprised at that, eyebrows nearly in his hairline and eyes wide.

“What do you mean?”

Stiles sighs, putting down his own fork.

“I’m an Alpha, Derek, and I’m not nearly in control of _those_ powers either. It doesn’t matter that I can’t shift. I’m not in control of my emotions or my connection with the pack or even of my eyes yet. And besides that,” he waves, picking up his fork again and going for some sausage, “Scott’s only ever been able to leave the territory knowing _you’re_ here. I can’t leave too, neither of us would feel safe enough leaving the territory for that long.”

Derek can’t argue with that; although both Stiles and Scott are sure the territory’d be more than safe with Derek and Erica and Malia around full-time, the Alpha part of them wouldn’t feel comfortable at all leaving it Alpha-less.

“We’ve got to _something_ ,” Derek finally says after a long moment of silence, sounding thoroughly frustrated, and Stiles bites his lip again, thinking about the spell again.

“There is one way,” he replies hesitantly. Derek looks over to him, sceptical yet curious.

“There’s a spell; it’s pretty complicated, but I think there should be some way to transfer the Alpha back into you without me dying.”

Derek’s jaw drops at that, and Stiles braces himself for telling Derek about this plan.

******

“…there’s a seventy-seven percent chance of it going correctly,” Stiles finishes, looking over at Derek, who’s been eyeing him since they’d gone over the plan back at his house. Now, they’re at Scott’s house, the entire pack plus Cora gathered around.

“Seventy-seven percent?” Kira bursts out, and Derek gives Stiles a look that totally says “told you so”, because the rest of the pack is looking at him like he’s crazy for even suggesting this.

“What about the other twenty-three percent?” Scott asks, and Stiles looks back at him, finding his best hesitant smile. He can feel his leg shaking, not an uncommon thing for him to do especially when anxious, but it’s worse than ever, totally vibrating and he feels like it’s going to vibrate right off his body. His eyes have been subtly glowing purple since he and Derek had arrived a half hour ago, and he finds himself sliding closer to the werewolf because it feels somewhat better, around him.

“There’s about a twelve percent chance nothing will happen. And the other eleven percent…” he trails off, looking at Derek again, who puts a hand on the small of his back, the look on his face absolutely heart-breaking.

“The other eleven percent chance is that I’ll die. In that case, the Alpha powers will transfer as expected to whomever in the pack is most worthy, and my powers will transfer to the territory automatically.”

“Absolutely not,” Lydia is the first to say, the others’ outbursts not long behind – Malia’s low growl of disapproval, Erica’s “What the hell, Stiles?”, Isaac’s “No way”. The rest of the pack have varied expressions of confusion and outrage on their faces, and Scott’s gaze if flickering between Stiles and Derek like he can’t believe this.

“C’mon guys. If we don’t do this, I can’t leave. Not now, at least, not when I’m so out of control of my Alpha and my powers, not when – ” He glances over at Derek again, who’s expression goes a bit soft, recognizing what he was going to say.

“Not when Derek’s anchoring you,” Cora finishes for him, and Stiles’ gaze slides over to her, and he nods.

“Oh,” Isaac speaks up first, everyone looking equally surprised except for Lydia and Scott – Lydia, smirking, Scott amused, “Is that who the hickey’s from?”

Stiles kind of slaps his hand over his neck, where his highest-collared shirt hadn’t been able to completely hide the bruise there. He can feel the smugness coming from his left side, and he shoves his elbow into Derek’s side, who easily moves out of the way.

“Not the point. The point is, this spell could solve – a lot of my problems. I can’t – I’m not supernatural, for one, my body is _human_ regardless of the apparently magic in it now, and it can’t hold – all of this power. I feel like I’m going to just explode soon enough, if I don’t get some of it out, and I can only displace so much of it into the territory and…” he trails off, incredibly frustrated, and he sighs as Derek grips the back of his neck, calming him again, “It wouldn’t be so bad – the risk of me dying wouldn’t be so high – if I was performing this spell on someone else. As it is, I wouldn’t even bring it up if we hadn’t gotten Cassius’ power because my power alone is not nearly enough for a spell this complicated.”

Nobody says anything for a long moment, everyone keeping their eyes tightly trained on Stiles. Eventually, Stiles sighs, rolling his eyes.

“I’m going to do this. I am. It’d be better if I had your support. One, because I would just like it, but two, because I can feel what you’re all feeling. I know you’re scared, I know you’re unsure, and you all know I am too.”

“We just don’t want you do die, Stiles,” Scott says after another hefty silence, and Stiles doesn’t roll his eyes because it’s a legitimate statement, but when he’d explained it all to Derek before he’d answered all of these questions, concerns.

“I don’t want to either,” he asserts, “But I also don’t think I can go on like this. Here’s the finality of it; either I attempt this, and there’s a really good chance that Derek is the Alpha again and I’m just left with my magic, or I explode because this is all too much for me. There’s a slim chance I die if I do this spell; there’s a solid chance I die and take half of Beacon Hills with me if I don’t.”

Stiles can feel Derek tense beside him as he _sees_ the rest of the pack do it. There’s various sub-vocal growls from around the room, and his immediate reaction is to growl back, flashing his eyes.

“You didn’t tell me it was _that_ bad,” Derek mutters, and Stiles actually does roll his eyes this time, just a teensy bit.

“You didn’t tell any of us it’s that bad,” Scott speaks up, because private conversations around werewolves isn’t a thing.

“I know. I’m sorry. I just – didn’t realize how bad it was, at first.”

“You did this morning, though,” Derek points out, the grip on Stiles’ neck getting minutely tighter, and Stiles gets a small surge of hurt, a bit stronger than the rest of the pack’s feelings but less so than his own, and he realizes that Derek doesn’t –

“I didn’t want you to worry more than you had to,” he murmurs, mostly for Derek though he knows that everyone else in the room, except for Allison, can hear him. Derek’s grip loosens, his hand sliding down to instead grasp at Stiles’ hand in a way that feels incredibly normal for their first time. Stiles squeezes his hand in return and looks back out at the pack, who are looking at least moderately more accepting of this plan.

“Right. So I’m going to need a few ingredients.”  

**Author's Note:**

> from the beginning I was having an inner battle with whether or not I should have them get together. somewhere around part 6 I decided for sure, because I realized that at the end of the day Sterek is my number two favourite fictional ship and I have no control over my writing. I'm happy with it, regardless.
> 
> quickly; the whole anchor thing. I figure that an anchor, for a 'wolf, is something that keeps them grounded and human, right? I think this would apply to Stiles, with the Alpha and with his magic; he'd need something to hold onto when the power got to be too much. I would even assert that humans have anchors; things we hold onto when we're freaking out? like I have panic attacks sometimes, or occasionally dissociate, and I have an anchor for those things. or when I'm super depressed, my favourite TV show and 1d are my anchors. so that's what it means when I'm saying that Derek becomes Stiles' anchor; he's freaked out, and then he and Derek admit their feelings and Derek marks him, and Stiles holds onto that. that's why Derek keeps Stiles calm and less edgy when he's around. 
> 
> there's gonna be one more part to this, I think. maybe one more part and an epilogue? I haven't fully decided yet. 
> 
> also thesaurus.com is my best friend especially when I'm having trouble writing something thank god to whoever runs that site.
> 
> I'm working on the last ?couple? part(s) of this, and also on my vampire Hale pack series and on that third part to my other story. I'm trying.
> 
> find me at [asocialfoxpaw](http://asocialfoxpaw.tumblr.com/) or [onedirectionaremyfirstlove](http://onedirectionaremyfirstlove.tumblr.com/)


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